


Back to December

by EarthsickWithoutYou



Category: The Flash
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthsickWithoutYou/pseuds/EarthsickWithoutYou
Summary: In disguise as Earth-1's Harrison Wells, Eobard Thawne merely intends to recruit another brilliant young scientific mind for his team at STAR Labs when he meets Dr. Caitlin Snow.  He's totally unprepared for the way she changes his heart and sparks his desires, just as Caitlin is blown away by this mysterious, fascinating, brilliant man who sought her out when her life seemed to be going nowhere.  Will his web of lies and trail of past sins destroy their chance at being together, or is there any hope for redemption in Thawne's dark heart?





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Caitlin Snow smoothed her hands over her lab coat, then delicately removed her protective glasses and placed them on the desk in front of her. “Thanks, everyone,” she said brightly as the students packed up their biology textbooks and thrust them into their backpacks, some of them nodding and smiling, even waving goodbye to their prospective new science instructor.

She took a deep breath as the Dean of the Science department at Central City University, Professor Edward Holland, approached her with an inscrutable expression on his ever-serious face. He looked at his watch as she smoothed her hand over her neat updo, her heart pounding in hope that she would get this teaching job and be able to pay her bills again.

Caitlin did _not_ want to go back and work for her mom at Tannhauser Industries, and after her latest research grant had fallen through, independence seemed more out of reach than ever, up until she got a call to come in for an interview and demo lesson at CCU.

“You can’t really run late in ending classes here,” Holland informed her in his crisp British accent, nodding for her to follow him as he led the way to his office. “Students have other places to be and just one late departure can throw their entire schedule off for the rest of the day, tamper with their chances for academic success, tank their GPA.”

_Dramatic much?_ Caitlin scoffed internally, keeping her face utterly prim and composed although she was starting to feel her pride in a class well taught, a job well done, morphing into anxiety that she might not be as much of a lock for this position as she had assumed.

“Oh, yes, I know that,” she assured him, momentarily thrown off by her nerves as they entered the faculty office suite and she forgot which way the Dean’s office was.

“It’s still this way,” Holland said snidely, causing Caitlin’s eyes to widen in embarrassment. Was that really necessary? Didn’t everyone get a little nervous and have moments of hesitation and confusion during job interviews? Was she supposed to have the campus map memorized for some reason?

These questions swirled in her mind along with a mounting frustration as she sat down in front of Holland’s desk. The slender, petite man in his late forties folded his hands and looked at her with chilly, condescending expectation.

“So, how do _you_ think that went?” he inquired lightly.

“Well,” Caitlin began as confidently as she could, smiling politely though Holland’s face remained severe, “I think it went really well! I love the enthusiasm of the students here; I could really sense that some of them were dedicated to pursuing this major, and they were asking highly relevant questions during my lecture. The lab portion of the class had some blips…but it was my first time here, my first time with these students, so given a little time I would learn their quirks and be able to get them back on track when some of them start getting distracted or arguing with their lab partners and such.” Worried that she was babbling, Caitlin stopped to breathe as Holland chuckled, though his thin lips still never curved into a smile.

“And how do you think you managed the students who were bickering over responsibilities and expectations for today’s experiment? And those who were busy playing on their phones?”

“Um, I spoke with each of them, diffused the conflicts, told the students who were slacking off to get back on track…again, given that I don’t actually work here yet and I would need a chance to acclimate to the class dynamic, I think I succeeded nicely.” Caitlin pressed her lips together, cocking her head to one side as she considered his question again. “They all had their work completed by the end of class, so yes. I think it was a success.” Professional pride made hope blossom in her heart again as she waited for the Dean to nod in agreement.

“And that is where we disagree,” Holland remarked coldly. “From the moment you began to address the class today, you lost them. You informed the students that you planned to start off with some terms and definitions, and then when they wanted to break into teams first, you paused in your lesson and allowed them to do so. This disorganized approach had the effect of sending the entire rest of the class time into chaos. Students should not be arguing, that is not their focus; the girls in the back on their phones, they were not paying attention — you lost them, Dr. Snow, and you simply do not possess any classroom management skills whatsoever.”

There were so many things Caitlin should have said. _How about a little positive feedback to cushion the blow of the negative remarks? Wait a minute, why am I supposed to be perfect, working for free in a place I’ve never taught before, doing a demo lesson? Why would you ask me how I thought it went so that I could humiliate myself by saying positive things, then you could shoot me down?_

She didn’t think of any of these issues in that moment. Instead, of course, her face turned bright red, her cheeks burning as her eyes stung and she stared at Holland’s unmoved face. “Okay,” she blurted pointlessly, nodding like a rag doll. 

“And so it’s not going to work,” Holland added, looking just a little too smug. Caitlin knew he was taking pleasure from denying her the job in this specific, meticulously cruel manner, and it made her so angry that she practically jumped up from her seat, scooping her jacket and shoulder bag up and wanting nothing more than to flee, since punching the Dean in the face wasn’t _really_ an option.

“Okay,” she repeated a little too loudly, heading to the door as he made no move to walk her out. Holland was saying some nonsense now, blandly thanking her for her time and work, but Caitlin just nodded and left, feeling like a complete idiot as she walked back across the cold quad.  
“Don’t cry until you get to the car,” she muttered as the December air whipped the scarf from her neck, sending it flying irretrievably across campus. “Typical,” she added, deciding it was probably best that she stopped talking to herself as she had _most likely_ hit her humiliation quota for the day.

This wasn’t the first time Caitlin had faced a defeat or a disappointment, and it was far from the first time she’d had her abilities or professional integrity questioned…honestly, if she’d been in the mood for that sort of treatment, she could have kept working with her mom. Plus, if she’d been in the mood for the type of self-congratulatory misogyny which ran rampant through Holland’s manipulative behavior today, she could have just called up her ex-boyfriend Chris. 

Her scientific dreams felt about as dead as chivalry clearly was, or so she thought until she heard someone calling to her, "Excuse me!" -- a soft, intelligent male voice that made her feel all of a sudden _odd_ …deeply intrigued in a way that threw her off guard.

She turned to see a stunningly handsome, smiling man coming towards her, holding her cranberry scarf. “I think this is yours,” he announced gently, stopping his wheelchair when he got to her and she took the scarf gratefully. Their fingers brushed and she felt a tingle of electricity teasing her spine as she rested her sweet amber eyes on his fathomless blue ones. His eyes were _so_ bright, so beautiful…but then, the rest of his face was too…those dimples that flashed with his smile, that thick mop of raven hair slicked back so debonairly…she couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to mess it up with her eager fingers, to dishevel this impeccably put together, mature and fascinating man who…

_Whoaaaa, Caitlin, pull yourself together!_ This _total stranger_ had done nothing except return her scarf and smile, yet for some reason she was fantasizing about all manner of absurdities with one look at his admittedly gorgeous face, one chance incident of hearing his sexy voice falling over her ears. There was something familiar about him, too, though she couldn’t quite place it.

“Thanks,” she grinned, despite the tears still threatening due to her upsetting interview, despite the insanely lusty path her thoughts had tried to take. She looped the scarf back around her neck as the stranger nodded, examining her at least as interestedly as she had him, though she had to assume for entirely different reasons. After all, why would he want her back based on an acquaintance of less than a minute? Caitlin’s own reaction to his presence was strange enough; reciprocation on his part would be downright crazy.

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” the man smiled easily, extending his hand up to shake hers as she nearly fainted at the feeling of his big, warm fingers enveloping her soft, ungloved, cold hand. _How is he so warm? God, I bet he smells good…_

“I’m Dr. Harrison Wells,” he introduced himself with smooth confidence as Caitlin’s heart squeezed in recognition. _Of course!_ The director of the newly opened STAR Labs, the place her mom wouldn’t stop complaining about, though Caitlin would _love_ to work there. Could this be a networking opportunity, falling out of the clear blue sky right after she’d been unceremoniously crushed at her latest attempt to land a job?

“Hi, I’m Caitlin Snow” she laughed musically, surprised disbelief at his identity making her giddy. “Sorry, I’m a huge fan! I’ve read everything you’ve ever written, or you know, maybe everything — _almost_ everything, at the very least! I’m a bioengineer, or…I’m _trying_ to be.” She couldn’t quite seem to hold herself together between the feelings of a newly born crush, the excitement of meeting one of her idols, and the open wound of her pride in herself as a scientist, her hopes for her career that just seemed to keep stalling at take-off.

Dr. Wells’ intelligent crystal eyes scanned her conflicted face and he seemed to come to a significant conclusion of some kind. 

“Well, Caitlin Snow,” he said in that sparklingly charismatic way that had her bewitched, “I can only wish I’d read everything you’ve ever written, too.” Caitlin’s cheeks turned from pale to pink and she licked her lips, unable to stop staring at him. “Would you like to join me for a drink?” he asked.

And that’s when they both realized that he was still holding her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Eobard Thawne sat across from Caitlin Snow at a dimly lit pub thinly dotted with CCU students quietly studying. He and Caitlin were settled into a corner table so that he could almost imagine they were alone, and it was _all_ he wanted to imagine.

_It’s all I want…_

Thawne tried hard to remember why he had tracked Caitlin down in the first place, why he was trying to assemble a specific team of brilliant young scientific minds to continue his work on the particle accelerator. He tried to focus on his plan of vengeance against his arch-nemesis The Flash, on anything but the idea of laying this gorgeous woman down and making passionate love to her for hours on end. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he kept failing. He kept fantasizing that he really _was_ Dr. Harrison Wells, the morally upstanding, one-man scientific vanguard, more than that…the man of her dreams.

Yes, he could tell she had a crush on him, like a charmingly sweet schoolgirl crush on a swoon-worthy potential mentor who had already contributed so much to her scientific ambitions, someone she longed to work with, to be close to…it was killing him.

He did not want these feelings. Thawne had never experienced this level of attraction to someone, and it made his skin crawl…was that the sensation? No, it was this insane, warm, tingling excitement…it was arousal so powerful that he fell further and further into the fantasy until he believed his own lies.

Caitlin Snow…her bright, dreamy eyes, her hopefulness and kindness, her cleverness and refusal to back down from what she wanted no matter how hard it was to obtain. She wasn’t like anyone else, she was incomparable, so special it broke his heart at the same time it made him realize that he still had one in the first place.

Was this…falling in love? It was horrible, a nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

“So what do you think? Am I nuts here, or was the Dean totally out of line talking to me like that?” Caitlin took a delicate sip from her glass of wine, the one he’d encouraged her to order even though it wasn’t quite five o’clock. God, who was so adorable that they would wait a half hour just to order a drink? How could she even be real?

Thawne found that his reaction to her question took some time to process. First, he admired the way her pretty lips parted around the wine glass, imagining the merlot gliding over her tongue with a stab of jealousy so alarming, he nearly flinched. Then he thought about what she’d said and nodded, concealing his immediate hatred of this “Edward Holland” character with an understanding, empathetic smile.

“Yes,” Thawne agreed, making Caitlin’s eyes widen until he laughed, warmly and openly, correcting himself: “No, no, not ‘yes, you’re nuts,’ far from it, but ‘Yes, he was out of line.’ Incredibly unprofessional and worse than that, ungentlemanly. Quite frankly, Caitlin, I’m appalled that anyone would treat someone as special as you like that. I’ve got half a mind to take it up with him myself.”

He spoke lightly, but Caitlin saw the way his eyes darkened; she was too damn perceptive and he’d have to keep an eye on that.

Thawne took off his glasses and made a show of cleaning them, a nervous habit he’d developed, partially as a result of the discomfort in having to wear these stupid things to imitate Wells, partially to give himself something to do with his hands while he figured out which lie best fit a given scenario.

“Harrison,” she said softly, reaching for his hand, touching him so gently that his heart seemed to stop. “You would stand up for me?” Then she realized how forward she was being, how presumptuous, and drew her hand back hastily. “I’m sorry,” she said, her gorgeous face turning sheepish. “I mean, Dr. Wells. You don’t need to talk to Holland, I can handle it.” She forced a laugh, took a sip of wine and babbled on, “I mean, it’s hardly my first professional rejection, I—“

“First of all,” he said huskily, “I like you calling me ‘Harrison.’” She stared at him, shocked, unquestionably pleased by his answer, and there was a sensuousness shining in her innocent, honest eyes that made him shift in his seat. 

_Caitlin Snow, you’re making me hard._ What would she say if she knew? What would they _do_?

Yes, he loved her calling him ‘Harrison,’ even more so than ‘Eobard.’ His true name came with consequences. She could never want him for who he really was…she was too _good_. It was obvious. Integrity was so clearly the primary trait of her entire personality, without which she wouldn’t be Caitlin Snow, and he wouldn’t be so desperately in…

_Stop that._

“Secondly,” he proceeded, his velvety tone intoxicating her more than the wine ever could, “Look at you.” He waved his hand in front of her nonchalantly, even though looking at her angelic face and her pert, sexy body made him feel hot all over. Caitlin shrugged, never taking her eyes from his. It felt amazing, being the one she looked at with such devoted curiosity, fascination, idolization. He didn’t deserve it but he wanted it more than anything, maybe even more than revenge. He thought he must be going insane.

“You’re uh…you’re how old now, twenty-three, twenty-four I’d say?” He guessed as she nodded.

“Twenty-four,” Caitlin confirmed.

“Okay, so, you’re only a few years older than your potential students at that university. Yet you’re already an accomplished scientist and neurosurgeon? Caitlin…you are more than impressive. You’re intimidating.” He took a sip of his whiskey as her jaw dropped.

“Me? ‘Intimidating’? But I’m so… _nice._ Too nice, which is why people like Holland feel free to push me around.” Her brow furrowed cutely and he moved his wheelchair back from the table, then went to her, pausing by her side. 

“That just makes you even more intimidating,” he told her throatily. “Someone with your talent and great personality at your age, and a woman to boot, is far more than a guy like Holland can handle without feeling threatened. He’s a misogynistic, manipulative jerk, Caitlin, and _you_ are amazing.” She blinked at him through fresh tears and he smiled affectionately, all wrapped up in the lie of his fake identity and this new, fierce longing to stay safe in it with her. 

“Now…maybe you could loosen up a little,” he suggested thoughtfully. “Believe in yourself more…here.” Thawne reached over and carefully unwound Caitlin’s glossy, light brown hair from the neat bun she’d swept it back in for her interview. “There, now,” he murmured, unable to resist raking his fingers through her sumptuous tresses until they fanned out around her slender shoulders. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Transfixed and infatuated, Caitlin nodded, as if she would have done anything he asked, as if she would let him do what he wanted with her. He could tell she was strong despite her sweetness, and that this wasn’t the sort of compliance she extended to just anyone. In fact, given what she’d told him about her relationship with her mother, and how she’d held her own against rivals in medical school, given that she was single when any man in their right mind would likely sacrifice a limb to date her, it all proved she didn’t give herself away lightly, didn’t hand her power over without a fight.

“Go on, shake it out,” he laughed quietly, intimately, testing his theory. Would she obey him?

Caitlin giggled musically and shook her head so that her hair flew wildly around her shoulders. 

“How’s that?” he asked, getting just a little closer to her. She smelled of raspberries — that was probably her shampoo — mint — perhaps a lotion she’d applied? — and white wine, and he wanted to taste her. He never wanted to stop.

“It’s, uh…it’s good,” she smiled, turning her whole body to face him. “I’m glad we met, Harrison.”

He realized that he hadn’t even explained how he found her, that he had come for her specifically to recruit her for his team, that he’d contacted her mother to find out where she would be that afternoon. It faded away from his mind now. 

It didn’t even seem like a lie, not telling her that part. After all, when he’d come looking for her, he hadn’t had the slightest inkling what she would do to him, how meeting each other would change their lives so quickly. _Everything has changed._

Thawne cupped Caitlin’s cheek, overwhelmed by the softness and warmth of her blushing skin. His thumb dropped down to stroke her lips and she opened them, another instant obedience which made his cock throb in his trousers, his whole body tensed to take her over. Make her _his._

“Caitlin, I—“ Even as he spoke, he had no idea what he was trying to say, which never happened to him. Eobard Thawne, king of lies, master manipulator, self-aware villain, fumbling for syllables to express his deep-seated yearning. He truly was falling apart. Then an unexpected thought crystallized in his mind: he thought about telling her the truth. He imagined her loving him for himself, despite every one of his past sins, the scars on his soul, all the reasons she ought to find him repulsive.

Just then, the door to the pub opened and an earnest young man came striding in, saying “ _There_ you are, Dr. —“ Then Cisco Ramon stopped short at the sight of Dr. Wells on what seemed to be a date with a much younger woman.

Caitlin sat up straight, smoothing her skirt as Thawne turned to face his employee with a look of practiced impatience, yet dutiful attentiveness. The stern, yet intellectually nurturing mentor was a role he’d crafted with such care that most of his team looked to him with utter devotion.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Cisco compensated awkwardly, clearing his throat and adjusting his ridiculous t-shirt with some silly pop cultural phrase emblazoned on it. The kid had a million of those; it was stupid and kind of endearing. “But Dr. Wells, there’s a major issue with the particle accelerator. Please, don’t think I’m exaggerating out of some whacked-out personal resentment, but seriously: I’m pretty sure Hartley sabotaged it.”

Caitlin gasped as Thawne’s cool, calm face changed expressions completely, his features contorting in a harsh rage. He leveled Cisco with an accusing look, blue eyes flashing with an icy resentment, and demanded “ _What?_ ”


	3. Chapter 3

It was almost easier, once Caitlin had joined the team and dived into working on the particle accelerator, once she’d befriended Cisco and Ronnie and become enveloped into the daily STAR Labs routine of quickfire technobabble and innocuous banter.

Almost.

Almost easier for Thawne to hide his mounting, obsessive desire for Caitlin, which only got stronger the more he tried to resist it. He grew distant from her, which after his overtly flirtatious behavior that first day they met, was utterly baffling to Caitlin. She was disappointed and hurt, and the way she wore her emotions so plainly, her heart on her sleeve, the brave resolve with which she clearly determined she must have imagined the attraction and it would have been unprofessional anyway — Thawne could read it all on that exquisitely beautiful face of hers and it tore him up inside.

Sometimes it occurred to him that she was honest, but guarded, and maybe not everyone would be able to read her so well. It felt like a gift and a curse, and he could only hope the skill was one-sided. If she could see through his veneer of cold, restrained tutelage to the storm within, to his trail of lies and destruction and the crimes he hadn’t even committed yet, everything would fall apart before his plan could ever come to fruition. It almost seemed worse to think she’d hate him too, if she knew…instead of nursing a wounded infatuation which she tried to train into respectful friendliness, Caitlin would despise him. 

It almost seemed like the worst thing imaginable, blotting out the previously immense necessity of vengeance against The Flash, and it could truly feel that way if Thawne let it. He tried not to.

After a couple of weeks working together, of course Ronnie asked Caitlin out. The handsome young engineer was everything Thawne could never be: open, genuine, kind…unhindered physically by the spinal injury which the real Harrison Wells had suffered in a fall during childhood, forcing Thawne to have to fake the same ailment. Ronnie was the picture of youthful health, vigor, and unimpeachable morality. Yes, Ronnie was obnoxiously perfect for her, in fact. It was nauseating. 

Caitlin had come to see her boss before deciding what to do about Ronnie’s invitation. She framed the situation so that it seemed she was just a little concerned about whether dating a coworker would break any fraternization rules which Dr. Wells might have in place. But really, she just wanted to break down and ask Harrison if he wanted to let go of this intense chemistry between the two of them, if he truly wanted her to move on and see other people. She managed to refrain from anything _quite_ that potentially embarrassing and career-dooming, but she watched Harrison’s face very carefully, looking for hints of jealousy or unhappiness at the idea of her dating Ronnie.

She was crazy about Harrison, but he wouldn’t let her get close to him, not after that first day. It was weird and unsettling, the way her heart held her feelings for him tightly, refusing to stop caring, to stop wanting him even when he made it obvious the inclination was suddenly and inexplicably unrequited. 

He wasn’t quite mean to her, but he avoided ever getting too close physically, as if the merest brush of their shoulders or an exuberant high five after the latest scientific victory would somehow hurt or offend him. Although he was professional to the last degree with everyone, he made much more of a point in taking the others under his wing. With Caitlin, his encouragement was consistent, but never too warm. His correction, on the rare occasions when she made a small mistake, was downright stern. Caitlin supposed he meant the sternness to further reinforce the distance between them, but instead it had the opposite effect. Sometimes she faked a blunder just to get him to scold her. It was so arousing, the fire in his eyes and the sexy discipline in his voice when he reprimanded her, and it meant he had to come close enough to speak to her privately. 

All of this was getting to be too much for Caitlin to withstand. She couldn’t live her life like this, hung up on some guy who either didn’t return her feelings or was too messed up emotionally to get up the nerve to be honest about it if he did. She _should_ go out with Ronnie — Ronnie was sweet and gorgeous and never made the slightest hesitation in showing her he cared about her, wanted to spend extra time with her, wanted to get personal. 

Common sense told her that a boyfriend like that could make her very happy, and she deserved to be happy, not wrapped up in foolish, excruciating angst over someone who was completely unavailable.

Caitlin’s heart kept whispering that she preferred the foolish, excruciating angst because at least it meant she got to keep tasting the maddening attraction she felt for her boss.

So yeah, it was crazy and she needed to get a definitive solution to this big, soapy disaster, pronto. “I mean, is there a policy against coworkers dating here at STAR Labs?” she asked tremulously. 

Dammit, she still hadn’t perfected the art of acting all nonchalant and definitely not-in-love when she spoke to Harrison. And he was so good at doing it with her that it was just even more annoying how he still made her all shaky and nervous.

“Not as such,” Harrison mused, barely looking up from the tablet he was working on. 

Caitlin wanted to scream, _Just look at me!_

“I guess that will be fine, as long as the two of you are able to maintain professional decorum here at the Labs…and in a crisis, don’t ever prioritize your relationship over whatever safety measures either of you may need to implement at whatever risk is necessary.” He spoke in a clipped tone, his long fingers cleverly typing away at a complicated formula, but Caitlin stepped forward, tipping the screen down gently so that he finally had little choice but to look up and meet her earnest, soft eyes.

“Maintaining professional decorum…is that a special talent of yours, Dr. Wells?” Caitlin raised her eyebrows in mild accusation, though this outrageous mood on her part definitely had her heart thundering in her chest and a cold sweat tickling her whole body. 

He watched her carefully for several beats, finally letting his icy blue gaze flicker from her blushing cheeks and temptingly beestung lips to the lines of her lovely, supple body. She was usually so well-behaved…what had gotten into her? At her provocative outburst, he felt a surge of strictness mixing with his erotic hunger for her until he could barely hold back from bending her over the desk for a good, firm spanking. Thawne’s palm itched at the idea of her pretty, naked little ass and the sounds she would make, and a thrill coursed through him that made his blood run hot and his cock stiffen, but he kept his face as unreadable as he possibly could. 

“Will that be all, Dr. Snow?” he asked impatiently, with just the right note of slight reprimand to make her believe he hadn’t the slightest interest in reigniting the flirtatious part of their relationship.

“I guess that’s up to you,” she retorted, turning on her heel and walking out of his office. She could hardly believe her own nerve; her cheeks were flaming and her legs trembling, but God it had been worth it. Not only because she’d managed to get another mild bout of sternness out of him, not only because he’d finally looked directly at her for what felt like the first time in weeks, but most of all because in his beautiful, haunted eyes she had seen it again: the wanting. And she knew she wasn’t alone.

As she’d walked away, she’d felt his powerful gaze locked on her retreating figure, her swaying hips and the elegant swish of her long, glossy hair around her shoulders, the way she didn’t look back. 

By the time she got back to her own workstation and Cisco’s confused look at her brightly flushed face and wild-eyed excitement, Caitlin had completely forgotten about poor Ronnie’s suggestion that they start dating. She was no closer to figuring out how to clean up the chaotic state of her personal life, but she oddly had no regrets about that…only the overwhelming temptation to keep trying to get a rise out of Dr. Harrison Wells until she broke through his deceptive resistance and acted on his desires.


	4. Chapter 4

The night of the particle accelerator activation, Thawne was a disaster. He was infuriated with himself, after all this careful planning to ensure the accelerator was created as quickly as possible and that it would explode in precisely the right away to bring about Barry’s powers. After all that work, after the depths to which he’d sunk to become the exact opposite of the Flash and therefore best and completely defeat his nemesis, after getting stuck in the past and living _fifteen years_ pretending to be a wheelchair-bound good-doer, here he was distracted and anxious on the very night of his impending victory.

Every domino was in place to bring his plans to vivid, deeply satisfying life, and yet for the last few months he’d been terrorized by an unaccountable, growing sense of guilt which had apparently come to a head on this momentous night.

Perhaps Caitlin had her own theories about why her boss hardly ever looked at her, but he doubted that even in her wildest or cleverest notions on the subject she could have guessed the truth: that looking at her made him regret _everything_ , all the darkness and wreckage of his life, the selfishness and reckless disregard for others, the disregard for the most basic and integral concepts of morality that had colored his objectively horrifying past. 

When he looked at her, Thawne wished that he had never killed the real Harrison Wells, Tess Morgan, or Nora Allen, never destroyed Barry Allen’s childhood happiness and condemned the innocent Henry Allen to a prison sentence. Previously, he’d never particularly cared about the real Wells, seeing the man as a means to an end. After all, why should Thawne have to remain forever stuck in the past when a solution was so easy to manufacture though sacrificing a few others who were quite frankly in his way? Up until recently, he’d actually taken a sadistic joy in the knowledge of how he’d hurt the young Barry Allen, how he’d ripped The Flash’s previously perfect childhood to shreds before the child’s very eyes. And now he regretted it all.

Why did Caitlin Snow’s goodness make him wish to be different, wish to go back and change it all, then find a way to go to her and be that man she thought he was, conflicted but ultimately virtuous and strong, a man she could love and let love her for the rest of their lives? He couldn’t control himself, even as he threw himself into tonight’s pomp, circumstance and duties with near-excessive vigor, trying to compensate for his inner turmoil.

This was absurd. He had to pull himself back from this madness before he ruined everything he’d so perfectly set up to ensure his path forward, back to his own time, to ensure The Flash’s humiliatingly inevitable defeat. People like Thawne weren’t meant to love others, least of all to be loved themselves. He had to get his head out of the clouds, _now._

It was almost time, now. Just “Dr. Wells,” Caitlin and Cisco in the lab’s inner sanctum as the minutes crept closer and closer to their portentous fate. Playing the well-worn role of thoughtful leader, Thawne gave Cisco a nice little congratulatory pep talk prior to the activation, with his protege nodding shyly, the kid’s ill-advised hero worship of Wells making his impersonator flinch inside at yet another stupid stab of guilt.

Caitlin was lingering in the background, waiting for him to say something to her, too, since that’s what any boss would do for his second core team member on such an occasion. He found that in this moment, as Cisco headed back to the cortex and they were alone, he finally could not resist just one little indulgence of barely tangible flirtation. Or at least, he planned it to be barely tangible but he should have known better.

She was standing there, waiting for him again, just like she had been waiting for him all this time. She’d only gone on a few dates with Ronnie before deciding they were better off as friends and co-workers, and Thawne had almost cried with relief, hating himself for his infernal weakness.

“Oh,” he said casually, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “And Caitlin?”

Caitlin watched him expectantly, her bright, nervous smile so stunning that it took his breath away. “Yes, Dr. Wells?” she asked dutifully. 

Was she _trying_ to tease him? That cute little blue dress she had on belonged on the floor as far as he was concerned, and she should be pressed against that wall with her legs wrapped around his hips. Of course he could do no such thing, not least of all because she didn’t even know he could walk, and so he just gave her an intently sultry look.

“That bottle of Dom we’ve been saving?”

“Is today the day?” she asked happily.

She was _glowing_ , so excited, over their professional breakthrough with the particle accelerator, over his attentiveness to her now, the way he suddenly seemed to be warm and open with her again, and he moved closer, looking up at her with a naughty grin.

“I think today might be the day,” he confirmed, his velvety voice caressing every syllable of the seemingly innocent and simple reply. She caught the meaning underneath his statement, that it might also be the day he finally said or did something about their connection. But instead of lingering, she nodded with that gorgeous smile of hers and went to get the bottle of champagne, like she was afraid the moment would shatter if she tried to extend it.

Little did she know he let himself give in just this once because he knew it was the beginning of the end. Once Barry got his speed powers, Thawne’s entire focus would have to be on training his future nemesis until his abilities progressed to the point where Thawne could use that power to get back home. No matter how much it felt like being here with Caitlin was his real home, Thawne knew she could never find out the truth of his identity and crimes, so he _had_ to stay the course.

“I have a feeling this is gonna be kind of anticlimactic,” Cisco joked after “Dr. Wells” had turned on the particle accelerator.

“Not in the longterm,” Caitlin beamed, looking back and forth between her friend and her boss, brimming over with enthusiasm for all they were achieving. The advances in clean energy, science and medicine which would result from the accelerator were maybe even beyond their current speculations. Thawne felt his heart sinking as he waited for everything to go terribly wrong.

Sure enough, a loud boom signified the kick-off of his meticulously planned crisis, with Cisco and Caitlin flying into action to try and resolve the situation before anyone got hurt by a potential explosion.

“It’s an anomaly in the core chamber,” Cisco noted, panic etched across his face. “I’ve got to go down to the core and shut it off manually.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you and help,” Caitlin decided, displaying her own reckless streak at the most inopportune time ever. It didn’t really matter what happened to Cisco Ramon, but if Caitlin accompanied him down to the core, she would be in imminent danger which Thawne hadn’t predicted. 

“Caitlin, no, wait, we’ve got more workers downstairs at the gala who can come up and help,” Thawne blurted, following her as she raced after Cisco.

“There’s no time, Dr. Wells!” she shouted.

He swore vehemently under his breath as he kept up his infuriatingly slower pace, finally catching up as Caitlin prepared to enter the core. Cisco was a room away, hurriedly working on fixing the particle settings on his end, insisting over comms that she leave the blast door open.

“I can’t, what if this doesn’t work? Everyone in the building will die unless we contain the explosion,” she insisted.

“Caitlin, _stop,_ ” Thawne barked, pausing his wheelchair right in front of her as she stood in the core room with the door still open, her fingers hovering over the controls to close it.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Wells…Harrison,” she said more softly, as vulnerable as if she thought she might be saying it for the last time. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

Without a single thought for the consequences, he launched himself to his feet and rushed into the chamber with her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand back from the controls. Standing behind her, tall, capable and demanding, he said hotly in her ear, “I told you to stop.”


	5. Chapter 5

Caitlin froze, her fingers still grasped in Wells’ hands. “What? How are you—?” there was hardly a need to complete the sentence, and God knew they didn’t have time to discuss how the hell he was walking around. She collected herself rapidly and looked at him over her shoulder, her expression fiercely insistent. “We’ll all die, Dr. Wells. We have to move, now.”

“That’s right, Dr. Snow,” he said huskily, releasing her and then heading for the core, “So we work together. Get the job done in half the time, then get the hell out of here before this thing blows.”

They worked as fast as they could make their adrenaline-fueled bodies move, adjusting the accelerator so that the explosion would be pointed upwards instead of outwards. Caitlin updated Cisco over comms so that he could change the particle parameters to match up with the changes she had made with Wells.

As for Harrison, he looked at her intently, as if he was impressed by how fast she’d gotten over the shock of him moving around like this. 

How wrong he was. She’d only temporarily smothered the need to hyper-analyze the matter, putting survival — theirs and everyone else’s — first out of necessity. 

“Come on,” he said hurriedly, reaching out his hand. She took it, still feeling that same all-consuming chemistry between them, which was maddening.

Everything was different now. The world was falling apart around them, all their work a disastrous endangerment to the city; he was a _liar_! And how many other things had he lied about? 

But Harrison still gave her that same icy blue gaze, and now it was all hers after all those months of avoidance. He watched her openly with the same handsome face, spoke in that familiar, hauntingly enticing voice, but he wasn’t the man she’d thought. How could she still feel the same? Yet, Caitlin knew she did. She still cared for him despite it all, and that was truly infuriating.

She merely nodded, her expression as inscrutable as her feelings were absurdly complicated. Then they ran for it, reaching the exit and bolting through the crowd of evacuated guests and curious passers-by outside. Was everyone too distracted by the red glow blossoming and spreading from the top of the building up into the sky to notice Dr. Harrison Wells running around? Did Harrison even care anymore about keeping up the crazy ruse of being wheelchair-bound? Without having the slightest clue as to why he would carry on such a charade, she did know that he had dropped it within an instant of realizing she was in imminent danger.

Caitlin couldn’t deny the way that made her feel, the urgent craving within her which reawakened when she stopped to think about him dropping his pretenses just for her, to save the woman he’d been trying _not_ to love since the day they met.

Praying that Cisco had made it to safety, Caitlin followed as Wells’ strong guidance led her seamlessly out of harm’s way, block after block until she stopped and jerked his hand back towards her. Her breaths came heavy and frantic, and he stood before her with naked near-panic in his eyes, that glimmer of worry she might never forgive or accept him, for just one moment before the shutters came back down and he was all cool confidence. 

She glared at him accusingly. Not only could he walk, but he was _good_ at this: running. Like it was his damn calling in life, his passion. What the hell did it all mean?

“This is my apartment building,” she said, hearing the anger in her own voice like it was something outside herself. She couldn’t entirely own that anger when it was so mixed with love and hurt. “Let’s go.” 

She let them into her apartment, then slammed the door behind her as he stared at her with his mouth half-open, bereft of an explanation, still breathing as quickly and exhaustedly as she was. Outside the window, the particle accelerator was flashing red, the impending “boom” getting closer and closer. 

What a nightmare. 

Harrison Wells was finally in her home, in her personal space, looking at her intimately, as if she was his lifeline. But everything else about the situation was the exact reverse of how her fantasies of this moment had always played out. She’d imagined him coming to her apartment so very many times.

In the past, Caitlin had dreamed that he would come to her because he couldn’t resist doing so for another moment, that all the repressed longing would spill out at last and he would take her hand, leading her into his lap. She would straddle him and run her fingers through his hair as their lips finally met, again and again and again. He’d say he loved her and he’d never let her go, never leave her all alone in these feelings again. He’d grip her hips and kiss her harder, deeper, making her absolutely sure his words were true. 

But now she had to wonder if he really even understood the difference between truth and deception, or if he’d blurred those lines for long enough to have lost that thread entirely.

She glanced out the window at the red glow coloring the clouds above and then looked back at him, her voice sharp and brittle. “How long have you been able to walk?”

“Caitlin, I don’t know how to begin to explain,” he fumbled, and she did take some satisfaction in his miserable vulnerability. The indomitably polished Dr. Harrison Wells, caught in a massive lie on the night of the biggest failure his life would probably ever see. He truly was a disaster, a beautiful, baffling disaster. 

_My disaster_ , her heart sighed as she tried not to let the thought in.

“Really?” she asked irritably, going right up to him and grabbing his glasses out of his hand. He was doing it again, that nervous gesture of taking his glasses off to clean them, as if she hadn’t noticed he only did that when he needed to distract others and give himself extra time to think.

“Do you even need these?” she asked, holding the glasses out of reach as he pulled his fingers back from trying to retrieve them, realizing the effort was as pointless as trying to avoid explaining himself.

After a rueful grimace, he shook his head, and Caitlin’s face flushed even pinker with aggravation. She couldn’t throw the glasses against the wall to watch the lenses shatter and the frames crumple on impact; she couldn’t crush them in her hand because she still loved those stupid, damn glasses as if they were real, as if _he_ was real. So she just set them down on the windowsill and continued her interrogation.

“I know exactly how you can begin. Don’t take the time to concoct any new lies, Dr. Wells, just tell me,” she demanded, her amber eyes bright and unflinching, the red light pulsing over her features, highlighting her angry expression and the never-lovelier, never more untouchable curves of her body. He said nothing, just stared at her, not blankly but stubbornly. He had some nerve. 

She poked her finger at his chest. “Tell me how long you’ve been able to walk, why you pretended to need glasses, then _tell me_ why you lied. You lied to me and Cisco, to everyone—“

“I didn’t care about lying to the others, Caitlin,” he said softly and smoothly, “but I always regretted lying to you.”

She shook her head, perplexed, intrigued and beyond frustrated. “I want to know why you lied,” she insisted, stepping even closer and grabbing at his shirt, dissolving into the fear and rage of the moment. The accelerator was going to blow, they were about to witness a disaster for which they were responsible, and he was still holding out on her, still keeping himself back and hiding. “Tell me,” she pleaded as his head dropped and he bit his lip, then raised those stubborn eyes back to her.

“It’s a long story, and this is hardly the time—“ 

“Tell me!” she cried, half-crying, half-screaming, shaking from head to toe, feebly beating on his chest with her fists until he caught both her wrists and used his hold on her to pull her body flush against his. She stared at him, enraged. “What are you doing?”

“The accelerator is about to blow and we need to get down, somewhere secure,” he insisted, his breath tickling her lips as he leaned his face down to hers suggestively. What was he _doing?_ , playing with his control over her again, his power, playing with her…and she liked it, she hated it, she loved it. 

“Tell me,” she repeated breathily, weak in the knees at the desirous way he watched her, the way he held her body so tightly against his own, one big hand planted firmly at the small of her back, the other still holding her delicate wrist.

He licked his lips and took a shaky breath, then the particle accelerator exploded into a shocking red blaze, shooting out over Central City, encompassing her building among all others. One second, two, and they stared at each other, her fingers clutching at his shirt as he gripped her, then the whole building shook, seized by a tremendous shockwave that sent them flying off their feet. He fell onto his back, Caitlin on top of him, the two of them holding each other for dear life as they slid halfway across her living room floor with the force of the explosion’s impact. 

Harrison caught the bottom of the couch with one strong hand and stopped them from sliding any further. Caitlin’s palms were pressed to his chest, her lower body cradled between his long legs as her hair fell all around their faces, curtaining their overwhelmed expressions in a fragrant haze. 

“Caitlin,” he panted as his bright blue gaze tore into her tear-fogged amber one, “I’m sorry, I’m so…” His long fingers ran up and down her back, instinctively massaging her, trying to comfort her as his walls finally fell and revealed the mess within, in new detail. “I’m so sorry for—“

Her lips were on his before they could form another word, and she kissed him with all the fervor of knowing it was a crazy thing to do. Knowing there was no way she could hold back from him for one more second. 

His explanations didn’t matter. Doubtlessly, there were lies upon lies to unravel, but none that could take this awful, brutal, desperate love for him out of her heart. Right now, while it was still possible, no matter how ill-advised and badly-fated, she wanted him.

Harrison growled softly against her lips, then kissed her as if his life depended on it, as if she was all the hope he had left in this world after his ambitions and his deception had been blown away along with his great, impressive invention that was supposed to give life and hope to a world which was now sure to condemn him.

Caitlin’s hands delved into his gorgeous black hair, mussing it thoroughly as she ground her soft, tingling body against him, the dampness between her thighs soon rendering her panties an insubstantial, soaked strip of fabric, just one of too many things between them, like his clothes and her dress…

He was hard for her immediately, and after she slid up and down against his arousal several times, clutching his head possessively, her lips burning against his, Harrison sat up, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt before whipping it aside. Caitlin ran her hands over his bare shoulders and chest as he yanked down the zipper at the back of her dainty little blue dress, and she lifted up enough to climb out of the annoyingly inhibiting garment. All plans for an elegant and triumphant evening now lay in a crumpled heap along with his suit and her dress. There was nothing left but the catastrophe of their passion, and his eyes glittered as he unclasped and removed her bra, then cupped her pert breasts. A wave of freshly intense desire and anticipatory pleasure squeezed at her soaked center and Caitlin moaned helplessly as Harrison leaned in and kissed her breasts, then licked and sucked her nipples.

“So beautiful,” he sighed against her skin, still holding her breasts and brushing her taut, sensitive nipples with his thumbs as his mouth pressed to her stomach. “So, so very beautiful…” 

Her shaky hands moved over his back, words utterly failing her as she gasped and sighed, then he laid her down on the couch and kissed her warm, eager lips again. This time he was the one grinding into her, pinning her hands down as she felt the tension inside her getting too strong to withstand. 

Then she found a word, but just one. “Please,” she moaned, her hands writhing in his unrelenting grasp. He chuckled darkly, kissing and biting at her neck, enamored with her sweet, delicious begging as his latest aggression only made her moan the plea louder. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing his erection against her more tightly as it strained against his trousers.

“Caitlin,” Harrison said sternly, as if he disapproved of her impatience, but his tone and look were teasing as his body revealed the truth of his elation. His cock was rock hard and thickening even further as he let her go and undid his pants, shoving them off as her eyes hungrily took him in. 

“Please,” she begged again, and this time he smiled and nodded.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised huskily, tugging off her tights, then her panties until he looked in immediate adoration at her bare, glistening sex.

Caitlin’s arm was flung behind her head, grabbing the pillow desperately, her hair gloriously disheveled, cheeks hot and breaths halting, chaotic and needy.

“Just let me kiss you a little,” Harrison sighed, clasping her knees to part her thighs confidently. He dipped his face down and followed through on his intention, kissing her hot, throbbing pussy until she was dripping for him, her leg bent around his upper back, fingers grabbing his hair and pulling, her voice ragged and almost frenzied.

“ _Harrison!_ ” Caitlin cried, then she was lost to increasingly high-pitched moans as he lapped and sucked at her aching cunt. She came, sweetly and sharply, her legs shaking so hard that only his loving hold on them could exert the least control over her body, her moans opening into a soft, shocked mewl.

“Yes, that’s what you deserve,” Harrison said as he raised his handsome, flushed face and licked his endlessly kissable, lush lips. He hovered over her, then kissed her neck again, letting the throes of her orgasm fade in a series of blissful, gently receding waves before he positioned his cock at her entrance. “I’m going to show you everything I’ve wanted to do to you since that December day I caught your scarf,” he promised, his sexy voice in her ear making her moan again, spreading her legs and nodding.

“It’s all I’ve wanted, this whole time, all these months,” she sighed, kissing his face, his lips, her gentle fingers traveling his back, studying the lean lines of his muscled body. Her tenderness undid him, seemed to betray his vulnerability to his own understanding until he had to harness his emotions somehow. But Caitlin knew it was too late for that now; they were locked in an ongoing revelation that had been too long coming for any further denial.

“You wanted me to make love to you, Caitlin?” he asked softly, starting to sink his rigid erection between her slick folds as she bit her lip, her eyelashes fluttering at the first feeling of him penetrating her. 

“Yes,” she whispered, “So much.”

He thrust into her, giving no warning before going deeper, though his motion was slow, and she gave a startled cry at his length and girth. “Oh, God!” she said as he groaned in ecstasy at her tight perfection. 

“You wanted me to fuck you, Dr. Snow?” he asked more urgently, sliding in and almost all the way out of her, delving deeper with each torturously gradual thrust.

That _voice_ of his was going to be the end of her. She gave an answering moan, but that wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy him. Caitlin’s eyes were wide as he took the time to gaze into them again, and he was dangerously curious as ever, though the pleasure reverberating through his tensed body with every move he made inside her rendered him slightly breathless. “Tell me,” he insisted, holding her wrists down again and pausing momentarily.

“Yes,” she confessed as her heart thundered in her chest and she let go of her last vestige of pride or rebelliousness. Her hands relaxed in his grip. “So much. But it’s more than that. I _need_ you to fuck me. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” he grinned wickedly, his hold on her tight and secure as he began driving into her harder and faster, evoking yet more of her wild cries. When her second orgasm hit, her pussy squeezed him as her mouth fell open in a silent scream, her eyes rolling up. When he felt that, it pushed him over the edge and the hot mounting tension inside him exploded into her as he went on fucking her, harder than ever, drawing out their pleasure until they were both exhausted and he collapsed. Letting go of her wrists, he let his head drop to her breasts as she wrapped her arms around him, enfolding him in that soft, warm, irresistible tenderness of hers again until it was too much for him to bear without another confession.

“I love you,” he murmured, reaching up to clasp her face and stroke her cheek, his own face still pressed to her chest, his voice as gentle as the softest rainfall though the words he spoke were as perilous as a tsunami.

“I love you, Caitlin,” he repeated, and she kissed his hand, then held it against her face.

“I know,” she confirmed, because she did and she always had. There were other questions, threatening to intrude her mind before she could sink further into the precious stolen joy of this interlude. Questions like why she had just made love with a man who had lied and manipulated her in unforgivable ways, or what exactly she planned to do to find out the rest of his secrets…what in the world was she going to do with him? Dr. Harrison Wells. Genius, philanthropist, cynic, user, _liar_. Her beautiful disaster.

She didn’t know what to do. But it wouldn’t be long now before she’d have no choice but to make that decision. Her inherent, unshakable morality told her it wasn’t going to be pretty, and sadness crept across her face as she added the only answer she _did_ have at the moment.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
